Karasu is Sitting in My Window
by Robina Snyder
Summary: Set post series, Kurama finds Karasu sitting in his window. He wants to talk.


Karasu is sitting in my window. That's not really something I ever expected to walk in on, let alone with a baby in my arms. For a moment I'm torn between running and hiding the baby and telling Karasu that smoking isn't allowed in my living room. My mind finds this is rather like realizing a rabbit has pulled a pocket-watch out of the pocket of his waist coat before realizing that the rabbit's wearing a waistcoat.

"Didn't expect to see me?" Karasu asks.

"No, not particularly," I say, rubbing my son's back. He coos happily before trying to eat my hair again. I really should have it cut. Now, though is not the time to be considering that. I edge toward the dear, reaching out to the plants nearby to grab onto Karasu at the slightest hint of movement.

"There's no need for that," Karasu says, exhaling smoke enough to make me grimace. This is not good for my son. "I didn't come to fight, or to kill you. So what do we say that we let out guns down, and you can put your baby down for his nap?"

"Like you can put your guns down," I say, but take the moment to do exactly as he suggested. Kaiji doesn't need to be a part of this. When I return Karasu is still sitting in my window, smoking. "Mind putting that out?" I ask grimly.

"You don't want me to," he says. "It acts in place of my mask, and you know how not nice I am without it," he points out.

"I am stronger now than I was before," I point out. I can't turn into my demon form without the pills Suzuki made for me, but I am a lot stronger than I once was even without it.

"I know," Karasu says with a heavy sigh, smoke pouring out of his nostrils and mouth like a great dragon. I expect it to smell terrible, but am suddenly overrun with the smell of raspberries. "It's why I didn't come to fight," he says.

"What are you smoking?" I ask. It smells so… clean. Humans don't make anything like that.

"New Makai product, real cigs do more damage to the demon lung than any of us want to admit," Karasu says. "Besides, these taste better," he says, hoping out of the window and walking toward me. I ready my plants. "I brought you a gift," he says, producing an item I just realized he'd had in his hand the whole time. I'm not on my game today, probably brought on by the fact someone I was sure I'd killed a decade before suddenly appearing and chatting with me casually.

"What is it?" I ask warily, looking at the cylindrical box with the big bow around it until I realize the Quaker Man is on the top. "You brought me oatmeal?" I ask, not sure whether to laugh or kill him. Of all the truly weird things!

"Not oatmeal," he says, getting close enough to hand it to me.

"What are grits?" I ask. It doesn't sound appetizing.

"Ground corn," he says. "Kurama, look at me," he says, and I do, glaring at him until he pops the raspberry smelling cig in my mouth.

For a brief moment I consider the hygiene of such a move, and pull the cigarette out of my mouth. It takes like raspberries too. "What are you really here for?" I ask, watching him light up another cigarette with a small explosion before taking a long drag.

"It seemed like the right time to come see you," he says, moving past me to look around my new apartment. "What with the new place and the marriage and the baby," he supplies in a way that makes me shiver. How long had he been following me? I watch him move around my apartment, examining different things, quietly judging everything I own.

"How long have you been following me?"

"Not at all… well, long enough to get an address," Karasu says. "Bui's in love with your short friend, won't shut up about him, has him followed and everything. Bui's little detective squad found you. I just had to give them the incentive to give me the information I wanted," he says, turning back with a smirk.

"I'll ask you one final time why you're here," I warn. I know how I look, like I'm a pretty little flower boy, most people think I'm a push over. It's the exact opposite, and I have no problem killing a demon who has sashayed into my domain like this. The only thing I'm worried about it the resulting fight hurting my son. If he wants a fight I'd rather get Karasu out of the apartment, or Kaiji out; I'm not particular.

"I haven't seen you in eleven years," Karasu says, taking one of my wife's paintings off the wall and examining it. "It seemed like a good time to come, before you'd gotten so many of your traps set that I wouldn't be able to get within ten feet of you without being ripped apart," he sighs dramatically. "You were so much more interesting eleven years ago."

"Domestic life can do that," I say cautiously, slipping my hand into my hair and pulling out a seed.

"No, domestic life has nothing to do with it," the demon says, hanging the painting back on the wall again. "You were much more interesting when I could beat you," he says. His violet eyes go to my hands. "I don't like participating in fights I can't win," he says. For just a second he lets down his guard to try and make me trust him. "Reminds me too much of Toguro," he adds. It does make me pause enough to not simply attack, but I don't trust him and I don't put my weapon away. He's dangerous simply by being alive and by being in my apartment.

"You still haven't answered my question," I say in a low tone. If he doesn't answer it now I actually am going to kill him. He's dangerous and in my territory, and his presence threatens the life of my son. I'm being very kind to have not killed him already.

Karasu pauses, considering me while he takes a long drag. He blows the smoke out, but still says nothing. I turn the seed into a rose before he says anything. "I wanted a bit of closure," he says. "Closure I didn't get from the match, being nearly dead and all at the time," he says.

"How did you survive?"

"A small explosion in one of my own blood vessels inside the plant," he says. "Kept me from dying, just barely," he explains. "Bui got me out before the Toguro went soul sucking, and we snuck on a boat back to the mainland after that. Answer your question?"

"That last one, yes," I say.

"I was almost dead, and eleven years later I hadn't faced my would-be executioner. I nearly died by Toguro and was kept by his filthy side for forty years," Karasu says with disgust. He takes a long drag from the cigarette to calm himself down. His hair had started to lighten a little when he spoke earlier. "Seemed cowardly to run away as it seemed cowardly to stay," he muses. "I brought you a gift to show no hard feelings," he adds.

"Yes, about that, what is it exactly?" I ask. I understood ground corn, but not why he would be brining it.

"It's my favorite food," he says. "From the southern United States, an old girlfriend introduced me to it. I thought about brining a bouquet of roses, but the seemed… less practical and more likely to kill me when I showed up," he says with a smile. I feel my lips twitch a little. It certainly would have been dangerous for him to bring, and I'm partially amused by his dark humor.

It's my turn to take a long drag from the cigarette he stuffed in my mouth earlier. Smoking in Makai is different, something I indulged in once or twice out of curiosity, but disliked burning plants. Human cigarettes are too toxic for a normal demon, and a bad combination of synthetic and real leaves. This in my hand is completely synthetic and perfectly palatable.

"Good?" Karasu asks smugly.

"Yes," I say, glaring at him.

"Good," Karasu says. "So… how's life?" he asks.

"I'm sorry, but you have to go, this is far too normal a conversation for us to be having," I say quickly, trying to usher him back to the window. He laughs and I shiver, remembering that laugh from when he was trying to kill me.

"I bring you gifts and come for a visit and now you're trying to throw me out? You're a terrible host," he says.

"Maybe if you didn't stop in uninvited after being dead I'd have thought to back you a cake," I say with thick sarcasm. He laughs again, and I consider resorting to defenestration.

"Wouldn't you like to not have to worry about me blowing you or anyone else up?" he asks calmly.

"Yes, but I don't see that happening any time soon," I say.

"Talk to me for a minute," he says, going back to sitting in the window where it's so easy to push him out.

"About?" I ask.

"I've said it about seven times now, but I didn't come to hurt you, kill your, or kidnap you, nor did I come to do that to anyone else you cared about. I came for closure, and with how hoped up you seem to be, it might be good for you as well," he says.

"Just how long have you been in the human world?" I ask. He's picked up a few more cultural idioms since I last saw him, even if his grasp of how they're supposed to be used is tenuous.

"Fifty-two years next September," he says. "Or are you asking how long I've been in the human world without being under supervision? Only the past eleven… things sure have changed since fifty years ago," he adds, sounding like an 'old-timer', and doing so with a smirk.

"What have you been doing then?" I ask.

"And you were the one who said this conversation was too normal," he teases like I'm a child. "Mostly around, picking up a few girlfriends or boyfriends. I think they refer to me as "The Mad Bomber" now," he says.

"That's you?" I hiss. The Mad Bomber is a well known serial killer, who kills his victims with explosives. They're always very attractive humans, no matter what the age. The killer got well known for murdering an aging Hollywood actress.

"Who else?" Karasu asks nonchalantly.

"Killing humans is illegal," I hiss.

Karasu takes a long and uncaring drag from the raspberry sig and blows the smoke in my face. "I am who I am, you are who you are. Some things won't change."

"Am I to be your next victim?" I ask, cursing myself for letting my guard down.

"I'm not interested in people who can beat me," he says. "Only in those that I am stronger than. I was interested in you when I could beat you. When you nearly killed me I stopped being interested. Frankly, I'm getting a little tired of having to repeat myself with you. Were you always this obtuse?" he asks and I bristle.

"It's a little hard to trust a serial killer," I say simply.

"What pot are you to call the kettle black?" he asks and I glare at him. Yes, I do suppose my body count is probably well higher than his, even minus him.

"You will have in interest in me, even when I get old and can be beaten?" I ask.

"Because I feel that when I kill your human body that your demon self might come out," he supplies. It's not an impossibility either, and he'd really be dead if that happened.

"I see," I say. "You realize I'm going to have to turn you in to Koenma for the murders you committed," I say.

"And here I was hoping you could give me a head start?" he says with a pout. "I did bring you a gift," he points out.

"I suppose," I say, going back to smoking my own cigarette. "That I could give you a day's head start," I say. After all, what do I care about humans I don't know? I only care about not getting back in trouble with Koenma after all this time.

"Fair deal," Karasu says with a smirk.

"Just one more thing," I say, walking over very close. I rest my hand on his stomach, running my hand up his chest. Karasu gives me a wary look, not sure how to take the not so subtle seduction. I lean in very close as if to kiss him and he looks even more uncomfortable. "Have a nice fall," I breath in a sultry tone before pushing him out the window and slamming it shut.

That felt good.

* * *

A/N:

Okay, my Karasu mini-series is over. I must now work furiously on term papers.

A couple of little things: 1) defenestration is my favorite word, and I was happy to be able to use it. It means the act of throwing something, especially a person, out a window. 2) Karasu does not like to be dominated. 3)Kurama's such a magnificent bastard, isn't he?

Thanks for reading.


End file.
